despite the chaos, the overwhelming power on both sides, neither could gain the upper hand. The battlefield had reached a deadlock. Blasts of energy lit up the sky, but no one was falling back. It was a brutal, grinding stalemate. But even with the fight balanced, Ethan couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at his gut. Just as he was clenching his fists in frustration, a familiar presence appeared beside him—Feylora. Throughout the earlier battles, Feylora had played the role of a living battery— diving into the heart of enemy formations, absorbing energy like a sponge and redistributing it to her allies. But out here, in the open wilderness, there was no ambient energy to draw from. "My Lord, I..." she started, her voice soft. "It’s fine," Ethan cut her off gently, shaking his head. Then he asked, "Didn’t you summon a bunch of Fairies earlier? Where are they now?" Feylora pointed toward the battlefield. Ethan followed her gaze— and his eyes widened in disbelief. A massive swarm of Fairies was tearing through the Obsidian Dynasty’s forces, each one radiating intense elemental power. They weren’t just support units— they were wrecking machines. Some of them were unleashing torrents of fire, ice, and lightning, while others were charging straight into enemy lines, using nothing but raw physical strength to carve a path through the chaos. And the craziest part? A few of them were stronger than Feylora herself. "...Okay," Ethan muttered, still stunned. "For now, I guess we just wait and see how this plays out." Feylora didn’t say anything else. She simply nodded and sat down beside him, calm and quiet. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning split the sky. A towering figure appeared, floating high above the battlefield— The rıghtful source is 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹·𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾·𝗇𝖾𝗍 an old man, his body crackling with raw thunderous energy. "What the hell...?" Ethan whispered. The man’s voice echoed across the battlefield, "So this is what they’ve been hiding... I must admit, we underestimated them." The air around him shimmered with electricity, and the pressure he gave off was suffocating. Another peak 17-Tier. Ethan’s heart dropped. He hadn’t expected the Obsidian Dynasty to send someone . The battle was already balanced on a knife’s edge— if this guy joined the fight, Emerald Castle would be crushed. Ethan took a deep breath, then launched himself into the air, hovering above the battlefield. "Feylora!" he shouted. She knew exactly what he meant. Without hesitation, she flew up behind him, placing her palm gently against his back. The ground below trembled— earth energy surged upward like a geyser, flooding into Ethan’s body. He gritted his teeth, channeling it all— and in the sky before him, a massive energy sphere began to form, glowing brighter and brighter with every passing second. The energy sphere Ethan had formed wasn’t just fueled by the last remnants of this spatial world’s power— it was also backed by Feylora’s pure, concentrated energy. A blast that rivaled the might of a peak 17-Tier powerhouse. The old man in the sky flinched, clearly not expecting Ethan to suddenly appear— let alone unleash something that powerful. Crackling lightning surged from the elder’s body, coalescing into a massive thunder orb that floated forward, meeting Ethan’s energy sphere head-on in midair. The two forces collided with a deafening roar, energy rippling out in violent waves, the sky above them warping and tearing like fabric under strain. Both of them were strong— but the old man still had the edge. His Tier was simply higher. That mattered. The air between them sizzled and exploded, the clash of their powers sending shockwaves across the battlefield. The old man held steady, but Ethan was starting to falter. His body trembled under the strain. He was only mid-17 Tier— and this kind of power was pushing him way past his limits. Even the energy Feylora was feeding into him— he had to convert it instantly into attacks and release it, because keeping it inside for even a second longer might tear him apart from the inside out. A small stone, glowing faintly with a strange, oppressive energy, came whistling up from the ground— and smacked the old man square in the forehead. The impact wasn’t massive, but it was enough to catch him completely off guard. His body jerked back, and the energy around him wavered, his aura flickering like a candle in the wind. Ethan blinked, stunned. and saw a swarm of goblins flooding into the area, hurling sticks, rocks, and whatever makeshift weapons they could find into the sky. They were the goblins he’d summoned earlier— low-tier, barely combat-capable, left in reserve because they couldn’t survive the frontlines. Now they were the wild card. Their attacks weren’t strong— but they were relentless. And more importantly, they were unexpected. The old man had poured everything into his clash with Ethan. He hadn’t left any energy for defense. No barrier. No shield. Nothing. So when those goblin-thrown weapons started pelting him— sticks, stones, and crude blades slammed into him, each one a tiny crack in his focus, a small but critical breach in his defense. And that was all Ethan needed. The tide had shifted. The old man’s aura dimmed noticeably, and the energy around his chest began to spiral out of control— blood-red power leaking from his core like smoke from a cracked furnace. Ethan didn’t hesitate. He gathered every last drop of energy he had left, forming another massive energy sphere— and hurled it straight at the old man’s chest. The blast hit dead center. his body lurching backward, his aura unraveling as he stumbled through the air. That attack had drained Ethan completely— he was running on fumes now. With a sharp breath, he summoned the Scepter of the Fey Sovereign, its emerald glow pulsing with ancient power. and slammed it down with everything he had left.